He vanishes into the tree line, finding a sturdy oak and climbing high into its branches. Wildlife scamper by around him, afraid of his noisy intrusion. A family of squirrels race up the bark to escape him and birds take flight. When the earth is finally far enough away and the leaves cover everything below him he takes a breath and looks at the open sky.
He loves this view, he loves the feeling of being connected to something bigger. The sky was vast and empty, and the wind rustled through the leaves making him shiver. Lauren was a small part of this world, but this world was not just a bystander in his life. No, this world was alive, just as much as he was. It was a living breathing thing that needed him, and all creatures, to work. He didn't feel so alone when he truly saw all the life that was around him.
He stands, balancing carefully on the branch below his feet as he breathes deep the cold air of the upper atmosphere. He can see the sun as it starts to sink lower in the sky and the shadow of the moon that sits high above him. The sting of the cold fills his lungs and burns his cheeks, still wet from his crying. He closes his eyes tight before he opening his mouth and shouting into the open air. He lets out everything he's feeling in this one single sound. Birds scatter and rabbits flee, but he keeps shouting until his lungs burn.
He finally draws a breath, and he's panting. Fresh hot tears have traced their way down his face and drip from his chin. He's gasping for breath and it's the only thing he hears. He sits on the branch, leaning against the tree, and he stares, wind and mind silent as he continues to cry. The water from his tears falls to the earth below for others to eat with, grass and plants and flowers using his sorrow to nourish their own growth.
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He loves this view, he loves the feeling of being connected to something bigger. The sky was vast and empty, and the wind rustled through the leaves making him shiver. Lauren was a small part of this world, but this world was not just a bystander in his life. No, this world was alive, just as much as he was. It was a living breathing thing that needed him, and all creatures, to work. He didn't feel so alone when he truly saw all the life that was around him.
He stands, balancing carefully on the branch below his feet as he breathes deep the cold air of the upper atmosphere. He can see the sun as it starts to sink lower in the sky and the shadow of the moon that sits high above him. The sting of the cold fills his lungs and burns his cheeks, still wet from his crying. He closes his eyes tight before he opening his mouth and shouting into the open air. He lets out everything he's feeling in this one single sound. Birds scatter and rabbits flee, but he keeps shouting until his lungs burn.
He finally draws a breath, and he's panting. Fresh hot tears have traced their way down his face and drip from his chin. He's gasping for breath and it's the only thing he hears. He sits on the branch, leaning against the tree, and he stares, wind and mind silent as he continues to cry. The water from his tears falls to the earth below for others to eat with, grass and plants and flowers using his sorrow to nourish their own growth.